


Love and Sorrow

by indiefic



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 15:01:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiefic/pseuds/indiefic
Summary: Set after Diana leaves Themyscira.  An AU where Antiope did not die.





	Love and Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neros_violin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neros_violin/gifts).



Antiope woke to find Hippolyta in her quarters, standing on the balcony, goblet of wine in hand as she stared out at the moon on the sea.  Her cloak was draped over the back of the chair at Antiope’s bedside.  The smell of horses clung to her, and the smell of the sea.  

 

So the confrontation had taken place on the docks.  A fitting place.  And a war of the wills, long past due.

 

But Hippolyta was not done fighting tonight.  Antiope knew from the set of Hippolyta’s shoulders that her sister was spoiling for more conflict.  It did not take the wisdom of the ages to figure out why she was here.

 

“It is not like my general to hold her tongue,” Hippolyta baited, never taking her eyes from the sea.

 

Antiope ignored the slight.  They both knew how regularly Antiope held her tongue, especially with her sister and queen.  “Perhaps my recent brush with death has given me perspective.”

 

Hippolyta turned and gave her a withering glare.  “After all these eons, our greatest general has found a new perspective?  Simply because of a momentary intrusion into our peace.”

 

Antiope shrugged, and immediately regretted it.  She took a careful breath, inwardly cursing these new weapons of war.  Men and their technology.  As if death was not efficient enough with blade and bow.

 

She looked at her sister, feeling her features soften.   “Diana left, then.  With the man.  This Steve Trevor.”

 

Hippolyta turned back to the sea, her spine straight, her head high.  Forever unbowed, the queen of the Amazons.  But it was a lonely throne.  Antiope understood just how mortal tonight’s wound had been.  “Menalippe tells me that it was Trevor who struck the fatal blow to the one who wounded me.”

 

She could almost hear Hippolyta sneer.  “That proves nothing.  A calculated move to curry favor.  He is, by his own forced confession, a liar.”

 

“Diana believes him worthy of our assistance.”

 

“Diana is naive.  Her stubborn refusal to see logic has cost her everything.  Like a petulant child.  And you encouraged her defiance at every step.”

 

Antiope waited, letting Hippolyta’s words hang in the air.  This was the crux of it.  The deepest of the sisters’ rifts.  Hippolyta’s blind insistence on trying to cosset Diana away.  To hide her.  And to hide the truth from her, as if ignorance had ever helped win a battle.  Despite Hippolyta’s efforts, Diana had always stalwartly refused to be hidden.  And Antiope supported her niece, and her desire to reach her full potential.

 

“You have banished her,” Antiope said.  It was not a question.

 

Hippolyta turned away, scowling.  “She left me no choice.”

 

“You are the queen of the Amazons,” Antiope said flatly.  “You always have a choice.”

 

Hippolyta spun, facing her sister, glaring.  “The world of men does not deserve her.”

 

No,” Antiope, agreed plainly.  The veracity of that statement was beyond question.  “But a scorpion must sting.  A wolf must hunt.  You cannot change who Diana is simply because you are afraid.”

 

Hippolyta was seething, but said nothing.  Few had dared call her a coward and lived to tell the tale.

 

“Diana is not an idiot,” Antiope said, her tone measured.  “Nor a coward, nor a child.  She knows she is not like us.  She may not guess the whole truth of it, but she knows enough.  She knows she is not meant to spend eternity hiding.  She can feel Ares in her bones, just as we do.  Probably stronger than we do.  The battle has already found us, here on Themyscira.  How long do you think we have before there is nothing left worth saving?  You cannot think that the world of men can burn to ash and leave us untouched.”

 

“You support her decision to wage war with Ares alone?” Hippolyta demanded.

 

Antiope waited, taking a careful breath.  “She is the godkiller.  The war was always hers, alone.  I did not decree that, any more than I will the sun to rise in the east.”

 

Hippolyta stood perfectly still, staring at her sister.  And then all at once, something inside her seemed to give way.  Shaking her head, she slumped down into the chair at Antiope’s bedside, seemingly lost in thought.

 

Antiope looked at her sister, understanding Hippolyta’s struggle, even if she thought it was pointless.  “You lay with Zeus to procure a weapon,” she said.  “And instead, you brought forth a beloved child.”

 

Hippolyta looked at her, her eyes wide and shiny.

 

“The truth,” Antiope continued, “is that Diana is not one or the other.  She is both.  And all the stronger for it.”

 

Hippolyta took a deep breath, her eyes downcast.  “I spent my entire life ensuring that the godkiller was never called to arms.”

 

“It is not you who was born to challenge Ares, Hippolyta.”

 

Hippolyta was quiet again, lost in thought.  Eventually, she lifted her eyes, meeting her sister’s gaze.  “I told her that she was my greatest love.  And my greatest sorrow.”

 

Antiope shrugged, careful not to pull her wound.  “I hear it is the way of children, is it not?  Love and sorrow.  They are eternally intertwined.”

 

Hippolyta laughed.  “Perhaps.”

 

Antiope waited, but when Hippolyta did not speak again, she said, “Diana is called to action.  It is who she is.  Who she was born to be.  Who you _taught_ her to be.  No one is asking you to like it, my queen.  But it is the way of things.”

 

Hippolyta arched an eyebrow.  “This is the counsel my general offers?”

 

Antiope nodded.  “It is.”

 

Hippolyta looked unconvinced, but more at peace.  Then she frowned.  “I do not like that Steve Trevor.”

 

Antiope smiled.  “Diana is a bright girl.  She will soon realize that men are unnecessary.”

 

Hippolyta looked over at her, and there was something in her expression.  

 

“You think there is something more?” Antiope asked.

 

“I think nothing,” Hippolyta said, taking another drink of wine.  “I merely hope she comes to her senses soon.”

 

Antiope said nothing.  It was her experience that Diana rarely changed course without very good reason.  If she found something admirable about this Steve Trevor, then perhaps it was more than a passing curiosity.

 

They sat in companionable silence for a long time.  Clouds covered the moon and the air took on a chill.  A portent, perhaps.  Or mere coincidence.  Themyscira felt smaller, already, for Diana's absence.  

 

The silence was broken when Menalippe entered the room.  She nodded deferentially to Hippolyta, and then sat at Antiope's bedside, pressing her palm to Antiope's forehead.

 

Antiope smiled.  "I am not so frail as that.  I will not be leaving you."

 

Menalippe pursed her lips together into a frown.  "I never thought otherwise."

 

With a sigh, Hippolyta pushed herself to her feet.  She paused, looking down at Antiope.  "Rest well."

 

Antiope nodded.  "And you."

 

"We shall speak on the morrow.  There is much to prepare."

 

"Of course, my queen."

 

END STORY


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